


Ferris Wheel

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [334]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:59:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: navigatorsnorth asked for, from the AUs list with Virgil and Brains with a side of "please don't climb out and try to fix it ohmygod". Pretty please?





	

 

Alan is twenty minutes late.  Virgil checked his phone again, fingers beating an impatient tattoo against the case.  Around him, there were laughs and the distant, dopplered screams from the roller coaster, the ping of the games, and the constant, oceanic roar of a thousand conversations.

The queue was moving forward at a steady rate, and still, no Alan.

It had been Alan’s idea to go to the fair, the only one left on the continent that still used the same ferris wheel from before the turn of the century.  It was the pride of the venue, the feature on all their advertisements, and it was Alan who had gotten the story out of Grandma, how Grandpa had proposed to her on the top of this very ferris wheel.

It was Alan who had talked Virgil into going for a ride, and taking some photographs for Grandma.

And now Alan wasn’t here, and Virgil was nearly at the front of the queue.  

“Two to a carriage,” the bored operator droned.  He eyed Virgil up and down, then glanced at the obviously empty spot beside him. “Two to a carriage,” he repeated.  He nodded over Virgil’s shoulder.  “You two, together.”

Before Virgil could apologise, step out of line, do _anything,_ he found himself being bundled into the rickety, swaying basket.

The dark-haired, dark-eyed man shoved in behind him winced and shrugged as he shoved his glasses back up his nose.  “S-s-sorry,” Virgil’s new seatmate muttered.  

“Nothing to apologise for,” Virgil reassured him, trying to find a way to sit that didn’t leave him feeling like he was about to be tipped out.  The safety rail seemed insufficient for someone as tall as him, but he pulled it down anyway.  “Here by yourself?” he asked, just making conversation.

The other guy seemed to draw in on himself, like a turtle.  “S-s-stood up,” he admitted in a voice barely higher than a whisper.

Virgil winced.  “Sorry, man.  That sucks.”  He paused, considering his seat mate’s profile for a moment before sticking out his hand.  “I’m Virgil.”

The other man coughed.  “Um, most people call me Brains.”

Virgil felt one eye start to rise and quickly smoothed his expression.  “Well, nice to meet you Brains.  Sorry you got stood up, but hey,” he waved at the view across the fair as their carriage lifted up another step.  “What a view!”

The earned him a soft, shy chuckle, and Virgil found himself turning to study his companion more fully.  “And you?”  Brains asked.   “Why are you alone on a ferris wheel on this Saturday night?”

“Not alone now,” Virgil teased, and was rewarded with another chuckle.  As the ferris wheel continued to be loaded, Virgil quickly outlined Alan’s scheme.

Brains listened, giving Virgil the full focus of his attention.  Virgil was one of a large family, studied a large class, lived in a big dorm, and always had lots of friends. But he couldn’t remember the last time someone listened to him as attentively as this.  It was weird, but nice, to be the sole focus of someone’s attention.

Virgil found himself completely twisted in his seat, facing Brains square on.  Brains glanced down to the ground as it dropped away below them.  He looked up quickly, both hands latching onto the rail.  “Is, uh, is this the view you were after?”

Virgil looked up and gasped.  Fumbling in his pocket, making the carriage sway slightly, he managed to pull out his phone again.  Three quick taps, and he had the photo Alan had found on his screen.  He held it up so they both could see the frame and the reality beyond.

“Remarkable,” Brains breathed.  “Hardly has changed, has it?”

“Nope,” Virgil said, switching to the camera and taking the photo.  “Good things never do. Like this old thing.”  He pocketed his camera and patted the railing.  “Been going nearly 100 years now.”

Beneath them came the sudden, unmistakable screetching of gears.  The carriage swayed as it shuddered to a halt.  Brains’ fingers were tight on the rail.  “You were saying?” he noted drily.  “Oh, p-please don’t,” he added as Virgil tried to look over the edge to see what the problem was.  “That s-sounded like a problem in the limited slip-differential.”

Virgil sat back.  “You sure?”

Brains nodded.  “Very distinctive sound.  These old mechanisms were prone to s-slippage.  But otherwise remarkably advanced for their time.  That’s why I chose here for our first…oh.”

Virgil couldn’t stop himself from reaching over to gently pat Brains’ shoulder as Brains slumped back in his seat.  “Well, they’re a fool for standing you up.  I think this is an awesome first date venue.”

Brains sighed.  “Not e-everyone is as fascinated with gearing systems as I am.  I forget that sometimes.”

“I am.”

Brains’ head snapped up.  “R-really?”

“Really.  Engineering major and everything.”  Below them, Virgil saw a truck being woven through the crowds towards them.  Probably a mechanic.  Nothing to do but stay put and wait, and enjoy the company and the view.  “Tell me about the drive system.”

The night was warm, the sky was clear, and the lights of the fair twinkled beneath them as Brains started expounding the virtues of the differential drive that had lifted them here.


End file.
